(I'm Not) Strong Enough
by simplyobsessed09
Summary: Santana and Brittany are best friends who tell each other everything. At least, that's what Santana thought. What happens when Brittany comes out to the glee club without mentioning her plan to Santana? Post 2x04 AU. One-shot.


**A/N:** This is just some idea that's been playing on my mind for a while now so I figured I'd try to write something of it. I've never written a one-shot before so let me know what you think! Rated M for language and some homophobic remarks on Santana's part.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

* * *

Plopping down on a seat near the back of the choir room, I pull my phone out of the front of my backpack to see if I have any missed texts from Brittany. We always meet at our lockers at the end of the school day so we can walk to Cheerio's or Glee practice together, but today Brittany mentioned having to meet with Ms. Pillsbury after class. I offered to wait but she insisted I go ahead without her.

_No new messages._

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about why she was meeting with the school guidance councilor, but when Brittany didn't give up any details willingly, I let it slide. Things between us have become a little strained this past week, ever since I refused to sing that duet with her, so I'm not really looking to rock the boat in fear of scaring her off.

All I know is that if one of the sad excuses for a teacher in this school sent her there, I'm not going to be able control myself.

Quinn shoots me a questioning look when she enters the room but I just shrug my shoulders as she sits down in the chair next to mine. The seat on my right remains empty and I'm positive no one else will dare sit in it. They know that's Brittany's seat.

Looking down at my phone again, I'm met with a blank screen and I sigh before sliding it between the plastic chair and my leg.

"You and Sam use your coupons for Breadstix yet?" I ask Quinn, trying to start up a conversation. The rekindling of our friendship has been slow following our very public fight last month, but it's getting there, though a little awkward at times.

Quinn just looks up at me with a smirk on her face and I can tell she's ready to rub it in. "Last night," she smiles, "and it was delicious."

Of course it was delicious, it's fucking Breadstix. When is it ever anything _but_ delicious? My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Maybe I can convince Brittany to go with me after Glee.

"Any idea what Britt was doing there?" Quinn asks me, pulling me from my own thoughts. I give her a questioning look and she continues. "I saw her come in by herself but I never had the chance to talk to her. She left before Sam and I finished eating. I just thought it was weird, seeing her there without you."

As much as I hate agreeing with Quinn, it is odd for Brittany to go there alone. Sure, she likes Breadstix just fine, but she mostly only goes for my sake. If Brittany gets to choose the restaurant, she usually picks some fast food place like McDonald's or Burger King.

"That is…weird," I comment, mostly to myself, trying to think back to last night. After Artie broke things off with her, Brittany told me she just wanted to stay home for the night. I figured she would talk it through with her mom, maybe hang out with her sister for a while. It's so strange for her to go out to eat by herself.

"I know, right? Are you guys okay?"

Not knowing how to answer that question, I shift awkwardly in my chair and shrug my shoulders. Before Quinn has the chance to comment, Mr. Schuester makes his way into the room, subsequently saving my ass.

"Okay, guys," he greets, clapping his hands together. "Since it's Friday and everyone has already performed their duets, I was thinking you could all just sing some songs for the group. It doesn't matter what it is, it can be something you've been practicing or just your favourite song right now."

He continues on like that for a few more minutes at least but I tune him out, not wanting to listen to his lame attempts to hide his laziness. Leaning forward, I sneak a peak at my phone and see one new message from Brittany.

_OTW -BrittBrittxx_

A smile instantly tugs at the corners of my mouth as my eyes seek out the door at the far side of the room. The second I see blond hair bouncing through the glass window my body feels lighter and my hand begins to tingle, knowing it's not going to be empty for much longer.

"Mr. Schue?" Brittany says in a timid voice as she enters the room. I'm not accustom to hearing her sound like this, but that's not what makes me worry. She's chewing on her lower lip, something she only does when she's nervous.

Brittany shifts her weight back and fourth on her feet, looking directly towards the older man, and I sit up straight in my chair, her uneasy stance putting me on high alert. Why isn't she sitting down? People come in here late all the time, Mr. Schuester included, but no one ever mentions it. Why is Brittany making a big deal of it now?

"Brittany," the teacher greets with a smile, "take a seat, we're just getting started."

He picks up right where he left off but Brittany doesn't move.

"Actually," she cuts him off, "I was wondering if I could maybe say something to the group. An announcement, I guess."

Turning his head to take in Brittany's unusually slouched posture, Mr. Schuester's face softens and he walks over to her. He places his hands on her shoulders and leans in to whisper something in her ear. For the life of me, I can't make out what he's saying but a small smile appears on Brittany's face as she nods and I feel myself relax.

"Hey, guys," Brittany greets as makes her way to the front of the group. She gives us a smile but the bounce in her step is lacking, another telltale sign of her nerves.

Brittany moves her hand to scratch the top of her head as her eyes seek out my own. There is something different about them, almost a pleading to them, and I cock my head to the side in an attempt to let her know I'm not following what's going on.

Brittany, however, just gives me a tight lipped smile before returning her attention to the rest of the class. My stomach tightens as I watch her struggle to find the words to express what she needs to say, and I want more than anything to walk up there and help her out.

"This is really weird, I feel like I should be wearing a vest or something," Brittany laughs nervously, earning a few chuckles from the rest of the room. "But seriously, I know we talk all the time about how we're family and stuff, but I want to let you guys know I totally believe that. This room feels like home and I'm glad I've gotten to know every one of you because you're all awesome."

She pauses for a moment, to gather her thoughts presumably, and I find myself trying to do the same. Questions flood my thoughts, wondering what is going to come out of Brittany's mouth next. The one question that sticks out is wondering why Brittany didn't tell me she wanted to give a speech to the club today. This is obviously a big deal to her, so why didn't she tell me?

She's my _best friend._

"That's why I need to tell you something. I haven't been honest with you guys," Brittany states and my eyes dart around the room to judge the reactions of everyone. If this were anyone else who decided to take over the class, there would be many protests from different members, Mercedes and Rachel to name a few. But neither say a word, no one does, and I'm not sure if it's because they're afraid of me or because they actually care about Brittany. It's more than likely the latter.

Who couldn't love Brittany?

"There is a part of myself that I've been keeping from you and I'm not even sure why," Brittany continues, a hint of uncertainty and sadness present in her tone. "I hate lying, it just makes everything really confusing and complicated, it's too hard. So I have to do this, for me."

With those words, blue eyes find mine once again and I feel my face heat up. There are a million different things Brittany could say next, most of which I would be perfectly fine with. But I just know none of those are going to leave her lips, deep down I know exactly where this is headed.

Ducking her head, Brittany takes a deep breath before straightening her posture and looking at the group.

"I like girls," Brittany announces to the room, her voice not faltering for a single second, "and I like boys. I guess that makes me bisexual, maybe. I dunno." A light blush covers her face and her eyes scan the room quickly. "I just didn't want you guys to be confused if you ever caught me making out with a girl or something."

I think she keeps speaking after that but I couldn't be certain. The room starts spinning around me, the colours all swirling together. My lungs fill up and it feels as though my chest is ready to explode. A rush of heat pours over my face and I'm definitely tearing up now. Maybe that's why everything looks so blurry.

Blinking rapidly, I'm able to watch as Brittany is engulfed in Kurt's arms. Quinn is next, followed by what seems like the rest of the club, but I don't dare move. I'm not sure I could if I wanted to.

Over the past year or so, Brittany has been making comments about girls on a much more frequent basis. Whether she likes the way someone has their hair done or if she simply thinks a girl is hot, Brittany isn't afraid to voice her approval. I never thought much of it because Quinn would always throw in her two cents on the matter and she is probably the straightest person I've ever met. I though it may just be normal for girls to appreciate the way other girls looked, even if it did make me a little uncomfortable to listen to it.

But ever since Monday, I've been questioning what Brittany's comments actually meant. We've been making out, and doing much more than that, for almost two years now and Brittany has never said anything about it other than it felt nice. When she asked me to sing that duet with her, and a Melissa Etheridge song nonetheless, I realized that maybe this meant more to Brittany.

I was never certain, though. Up until now, I was hoping I was wrong.

God damn it, I feel like such an idiot for not realizing this sooner, what she was going to do. Maybe Brittany has always wanted to be open about her sexuality, it was just me who was holding her back. After the duets fiasco, she must have decided to screw our vow to secrecy so she could be honest with the group.

Maybe she's doing it so she can get a girlfriend.

Before I even register what's happening, I'm on my feet and bolting out the door. Bile rises in my throat and I know I need to get to a bathroom as quickly as possible.

"Santana," a voice calls after me, a voice I immediately identify as Brittany's. The sound of her feet pounding against the floor echoes throughout the hallway but I don't slow my pace, if anything I speed up.

"Leave me alone," I bark, pushing my way into the girl's bathroom.

Before I know it, the contents of my stomach are being emptied into the toilet and I'm shaking violently. Arms wrap around my body from behind but, as much as I want to push them away, I'm unable to muster the strength to do much more than cry.

I'm aware how selfish this is, that Brittany has to comfort me after she comes out to the Glee club instead of the other way around, and I hate myself for it. I have no idea why I'm reacting this way, this entire ordeal is extremely confusing for me, but I just have this feeling that her speech is going to impact my life in ways I never wanted, in ways Brittany never intended.

That thought brings upon a new rush of tears and I watch as they splash against the toilet seat. Another wave of nausea hits me and the remaining contents of my stomach are emptied into the bowl before my body goes limp in Brittany's arms and my eyes fog over. Everything about this moment seems surreal, everything except the familiar embrace.

Neither of us say anything, Brittany just holds me tight while I get myself together. My thoughts are loud, though. Painfully so. Pressing my eyes together tightly, I will them to go away but it changes nothing.

What if my parents find out? It's a give in that they will, this being Lima after all, it's just a matter of when. Will they still let me hang out with Brittany if they know she's into girls? Will they start asking me questions? Why do I care so much?

Everything is so wrong. This is so wrong. Today was supposed to be an average day, not whatever it has morphed into, and it's all Brittany's fault. Guilt floods throughout my body after having such a thought, but it doesn't surpass the levels of anger rising within. I've gotten better at suppressing my rage, but that doesn't seem like the case right now. Not with emotions running this high.

"Why did you do that, Britt?" I eventually ask, my voice hoarse. Looking up at her eyes, I see pain flash across them before she has time to hide it.

"I had to," Brittany explains, "for me. I've been thinking about it a lot lately and I decided to start meeting with Ms. Pillsbury once a week. She made me realize that I had to tell people that I was-"

Finding my strength, I jump up from Brittany's arms before she can finish that sentence. "You're not gay, Brittany." My voice is stern but my legs remain wobbly as I make my way to the sink, holding onto it for balance. "We're the popular girls, we have our pick of guys in this school. Just because we make out doesn't mean we're gay. I mean, I'm not gay! I'm not."

I don't know why I feel the need to defend myself, but I do. It feels like the most important thing in the world at the moment and, man, does that confuse the fuck out of me.

"You can't tell me what I am, Santana," Brittany growls, moving towards me with quick steps. The air is pulled from my lungs at her words and I take a step back. Never, in all of our years of friendship, have I heard Brittany yell like that. Not at her parents, not at her cat, and especially not at me. Her words echo in my ears as I watch her chest rise and fall with her heavy breaths. "I know you like to be in control of everything but this isn't your decision to make. If we didn't mean anything to you, fine, whatever. But it meant something to me and you don't get to tell me how I should feel."

Aggressively, I twist the tap on and cold water begins rushing into the sink. Not caring about my makeup, I gather water in my hands and throw it at my face. Hopefully it will somehow wake me from this nightmare, remove the weight that has just been thrust upon my chest following Brittany's admission.

"By the way, I'm planning on telling my parents tonight," Brittany bites. "I was going to ask you to come over after school to help me do it but I'm guessing you wouldn't be much help."

Ignoring her, I continue washing my face free of tears. If I look up at her now, I'll give into her. The expectant, hopeful look on her face will be enough for me to crack and that's not how this is going to end. Brittany can't just drop three huge bombs on me within the matter of a half hour and expect me to be okay, this is far too much to process.

"Forget it," she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

I dab the water from my face with some paper towel before turning to face her. She looks angry, which is understandable, but there is more to it than that. I give her a weak smile and her face softens. Resting my weight on the sink, I let out a sigh.

"How could you do this, Brittany?" I whisper, hoping to turn the course of this conversation around. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to do this?"

"Because you would have tried to stop me," Brittany shrugs, "that is if you actually let me talk about it. When I mentioned singing that song, you shut me down before I even had a chance to explain myself."

"Britt-"

"No," she cuts me off. "It's been years of hiding, Santana. From my friends, my family, myself even, and I'm sick of it. I'm sorry if you're worried about your own precious reputation, but what I did in there had nothing to do with you. That was for me, so I can finally be truthful about who I am and who I love. If you're reputation is more important to you than your _best friend's _happiness, then maybe we shouldn't be friends anymore. Not if you're going to hurt me like this."

"Is this because of Artie?" I wonder aloud, "because he broke up with you?"

"That was because of something you did, Santana," she huffs. Her patience is wearing thin. "Don't play stupid around me, I know that was all you. First you refuse to sing with me, but then you get jealous that I found someone else who was willing."

"I wasn't jealous!"

"Then why did you do it?" she asks, desperate for an answer I'm unable to give her. "You know what, I can't do this."

Brittany doesn't let me get a word in before she's pushing through the door and into the hallway, leaving me alone in the cold bathroom. The image of her disappointed face is vivid in my mind, adding guilt to the growing anger inside of me. My fists clench tightly at my side and I shut my eyes. I hate this feeling, of having no control of the world around me. Not even my own body will react in the ways I want it to. Instead of running after Brittany, the anger inside of me takes over and I have to fight the urge to punch the mirror in front of me.

I'm not going to let it win. Not this time.

A dripping noise can be heard in the now silent bathroom and I look down to see the tap in front of me hasn't been turned off completely, a single droplet of water falling against the porcelain sink every few seconds. Narrowing in on that sound, I try to calm myself down.

1 second, 2 seconds.

_Drip._

3 seconds, 4 seconds.

_Drip._

5 seconds, 6 seconds.

_Drip._

After a minute or so, I'm able to calm my breathing, returning it to a normal rate, and my fist unclench themselves at my side. Slowly, my eyes open and I look around the room. The white walls seem slightly brighter than normal and I have to squint to look around.

I turn the water up, morphing the dripping sound into a loud rush, before leaning down to it's level. My lips meet the cold water, allowing it to fill my mouth, before spitting it back into the sink. The vile in my mouth remains strong but at least it's marginally better.

Now that Brittany's had enough time to either make it back to the choir room or to her car, wherever she decided to go, I make my way to the bathroom door. Peering outside, I notice the hallways are empty of all staff and students so I sprint down past the rows of lockers to the school's back entrance, not wanting to be seen.

…

The house is empty when I arrive home, not surprising considering it isn't even four o'clock yet, and I make a beeline for the bathroom to take a shower. Though I showered after Cheerio's practice this morning, it feels like there is a layer of grime covering my body right now. The quicker I get in, the quicker I can fall asleep and forget this day ever happened.

…

"Mija," I hear my mother call up the stairs.

Lifting my head from the pillow, I look to the clock sitting on my night stand which reads 6:43. I've been lying on top of this bed for nearly three hours and I've yet to fall asleep. Both physically and emotionally, I feel exhausted but my brain refuses to shut up for ten fucking minutes to allow me the peace needed to fall asleep. Every time I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness, the image of Brittany's face, or the sound of her voice, or the guilt inside of my flares up and it's like a slushee to the face, painfully bringing me back to reality.

How is this my reality?

Deciding it might just be best to get up and do something that will actually occupy my mind, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and make my way down to the kitchen where my mother is.

"Hey, mami. How was work?" I greet, leaning in for a quick hug.

"Good as can be," she smiles, reaching for a grocery bag on the floor. "You mind helping with dinner? Your father should be home soon and I was hoping we could have a nice meal together. It seems like it's been so long since the three of us ate together."

A smile forms on my face as I realize this could be the perfect distraction and I make quick work of pulling the items out of their bags. I used to cook with my mother all of the time when I was younger, it was the one time throughout the day we actually got to bond. Then when my brother left for college, family dinners became less frequent. By the time I reached high school, I was spending more nights away from home than not.

More dinners with the Pierce's than my own family.

Unable to fight it, my mind wanders to Brittany's family and I wonder how their night is going. Both of her parents work nine to five jobs so they're probably eating already. I can picture it, Brittany, her parents, and her little sister seated around the dinning room table, laughing and making jokes with each other. Whereas dinners were always more of a formal event in this house, Brittany's family treated them as another way to just enjoy each other's company and catch up on the days events.

I swallow hard when I'm reminded of what Brittany told me in the school bathroom. She's going to tell her parents tonight.

Susan and Brian are great people and two of the greatest parents I know. They raised their children to be whoever they wanted to be, no matter what the rest of the world thought. There is no way they're going to be upset with Brittany for being bisexual, it's just not in their nature to judge others for something such as that. The part that worries me is that, unlike the kids in Glee, and even unlike my own parents, Susan and Brian are going to know there is more to my relationship with their daughter than a completely platonic friendship.

That thought makes my hands sweat and the bag in my hand slips to the floor.

"You okay?" my mother asks, turning towards me with concern.

Nodding my head, I rush to pick up the scattered items.

When I first met Brittany back at the beginning of freshman year, we bonded instantly. From the moment I first saw her in the locker room until now, I cannot recall a single time when we were not attached at the hip. The connection I made with her family was almost as instant.

Brittany's parents welcomed me into their home like I had been friends with Brittany for years, never once questioning any aspect of me or my life. I was invited to family dinners, something that never happened when I would spend time at Quinn's, and they would even take me on day trips with them. Over the years, I grew more comfortable around Brittany's family than my own, and that comfort meant I began slacking on hiding the nature of my friendship with their daughter.

In school, we held pinkies and walked each other to class. Nothing unusual for a friendship, especially when certain people thought Brittany was so clueless she couldn't navigate her way around the place herself. They're all idiots, but this time at least it worked to our advantage. At my house, Brittany and I spent the majority of our time in my bedroom, alone. My parents never come in there, when company is present or not, so they only got to know Brittany through brief greetings as we were getting home or leaving. Susan and Brian, however, are accustom to seeing their daughter and I wrapped in each others arms, sitting on each others lap, whispering in each other's ears.

No wonder Brittany wanted to finally come out, our relationship is fucking confusing as hell. One minute, we're best friends, stirring up shit in school, the next we're cuddling on the couch during Pierce family movie night, the next Brittany's going down on me, making me scream her name. At least if Brittany's honest with everyone about herself, she might be able to make some sense of the relationship she has with me.

That doesn't have anything to do with me though. I told Brittany that I wasn't making out with her because I was in love with her and I stand by that. Sex is sex, regardless of whether it's with a guy or a girl. Our bodies are wired to enjoy it. Sure, Brittany's kisses are softer and her movements more gentle, so what if she gets me wetter than Puck ever has and makes feel a thousand times better than any guy I've ever been with. None of that means I'm hot for her or anything.

I'm straight.

I think.

_I am_.

"Santana," my mother says, moving closer to me. "Are you okay? You've been in your own little world for a while now. You can go rest while I cook, if you want. You don't look well."

Shaking my head, I bite hard into my cheek. "It's just been a long day," I explain, hoping she buys my excuse.

Looking around at the assorted items, I realize mami must be planning on making spaghetti, so I gather the bell peppers and place them on the chopping board.

Just as I'm pulling a knife from the drawer, the doorbell rings. My mother and I share questioning looks, wondering who it could be, but mami just closes the fridge door and makes her way towards the front of the house.

Choosing a red pepper, I place it on the center of the chopping board and begin hacking away at it. At this point, it almost feels cathartic, watching it fall victim to the knife.

"Mija, it's for you," my mother calls down the hall and my eyebrows knit together.

Rarely do I ever get visitors, with the exception of Puck for a booty call or Brittany when she's bored, but both of them know to call first. "I have dinner," my mother insists upon reentering the kitchen. "Go see what your friend wants."

_Friend?_

I rinse my hands quickly before making my way towards the front door with much hesitation.

"Girl, you want to tell me what the hell that was today?" Mercedes asks the second she spots me, and I rush forward to press my hand against her mouth. Someone needs to learn to keep her voice down.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I bark in a hushed whisper. I can only hope Mercedes will follow my lead.

She just gives me a _what the fuck _kind of look and I lower my hands, wiping them in my pants. I knew I should have never offered my place to practice our duet. Now I have a stalker on my hands, and if Mercedes knows where I live, chances are Stubbles and Lady Hummel do too.

Mercedes looks down at me, asking for permission to speak, and I nod my head for her to continue. "After what happened today, I figured you might need someone to talk to," she explains in a much lower voice. "I realize Brittany may not be an option right now, for whatever reason, so I just thought I'd stop by."

The usual confidence Mercedes exuberates is lacking and I know I'm responsible for that. Fuck, why am I so terrible at dealing with people? First Brittany now Mercedes.

Out of guilt, and possibly a small bit of thanks, I give her a smile. "Y-you wouldn't mind?"

The stutter makes my face flush a deep red but Mercedes doesn't make a big deal of it and shrugs her shoulders. "I know we haven't spoken much before this week, but I consider you my friend. We gots to stick together. Undisputed top bitches, right?"

The smile on my face grows even wider at her words and a laugh falls from my lips. "Yeah?" I ask one final time, just for reassurance.

Mercedes seems to take note of my pathetically fragile state and nods her head. "Of course."

Surprised at everything that has transpired in the past five minutes, I'm a little confused about where to go from here. "It's a nice day, you mind talking outside?" I suggest, gesturing to the still open door. Honestly, I just don't feel comfortable having this conversation inside when my mother is home.

Outside is safe.

Without missing a beat, Mercedes wraps an arm around my shoulders and leads us out onto the front deck. For October, the weather is warmer than usual for Lima but there is a chill to the air that sends a shiver down my body. Thankfully, my Cheerio's uniform got ditched for some sweats following my shower.

Taking a seat on the wooden swing, the air around us grows heavy. Unlike Quinn, Mercedes isn't one to push for answers. She has the patience to wait for others to come to her and I admire that. Right now, however, I kind of wish she would start this up for me.

"I didn't know that was going to happen today," I eventually start, figuring there is no right place to bring this conversation to head. "Brittany completely blindsided me with that speech. I didn't even know she considered herself to be b-bisexual."

Though Mercedes seems to be taken aback by that, she keeps her mouth shut and waits for me to continue. Now I'm really wishing she will say something because I fear that, if left alone, I'll dig myself a hole too deep to get out of.

"She's my best friend, you know. We've told each other everything for the past two years and this one thing, something so big, she chooses to keep from me."

A shaky breath leave my lips as I finish, not realizing that's how I was actually feeling about the whole thing. I mean, that isn't all I'm feeling, obviously, but a part of me does kind of feel a little betrayed.

"If she had to tell me, if she came to me about this first…" I trail off, trying to make sense of everything. There are right words and wrong words that I could say right now, I need to watch myself. "I don't know how I can protect her from this. You know just as well as anyone how people get treated in that school for being different. They're going to put Brittany through hell."

My eyes begin welling up after hearing that out loud. I've been thinking about it all day, but hearing myself say it put everything into perspective. I don't understand, but it makes this all seem real. Too real.

Mercedes squeezes my shoulder gently, not acknowledging my tears. She doesn't deny that anything bad will happen, but I guess it's reassuring to know she isn't about to lie to my face.

"Did you know I was the first person Kurt ever told?" Mercedes asks me and I turn to face her. "Last year, when I was crushing on him, I kind of asked him if we were dating. Thanks for that, by the way."

My eyes widen in realization and I'm immediately apologizing. God, why the fuck am I suck a dick?

"Don't even worry about it, that was forever ago," she laughs but my guilt doesn't subside. "Anyways, I asked him and he didn't want to hurt me so he told me he was gay. It was shocking, finding out that the person I considered my best friend had been lying to me for so long, and I was honestly a little upset with him for keeping it from me."

I try finding comfort in her words but I come up short.

"But then I realized that it had nothing to do with me. He was keeping his biggest secret from everyone because he was terrified of the reactions people would have," Mercedes explains and it causes something inside of me to stir. Her words, for some reason, seem all too familiar but I can't pinpoint why. "Lima is a pretty horrible place for people who are different, you and I know that first hand. For people like Kurt and Brittany, it might not always be safe for them to be open, not even to their own friends and family."

What Mercedes it saying, it all makes sense. I always prided myself on my friendship with Brittany. Prior to her, there wasn't anyone I felt I could speak my mind around and they wouldn't laugh or want to punch me in the face. But everything has been changing recently, and I'm starting to realize that we may not be that person for each other anymore. At least, I may not be that person for her, and it's all my fault.

"Kurt came to me because he trusted me," Mercedes continues. "That's the same reason Brittany decided to come out to the club. We're all family in there, just like she said. We don't give a damn who someone likes, all we care about is if you're a good person."

The words are said with such conviction that I have a hard time not believing them. Brittany was always the one insisting on the whole family ideal in Glee, but now I can see where she's coming from. This time last year, I wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with Mercedes, and now look at us.

"You're not going to have to protect Brittany alone, you have an entire group of people willing to help out in any way we can. Besides, Brittany seems pretty capable of taking care of herself, given the opportunity."

Nodding, I run my hands through my hair. "I know," I gulp, "it's just hard. She should have told me."

"You mean to tell me you never once kept a secret?" Mercedes asks and my heart drops for some reason. "Everyone has secrets, even when it's their best friend they're talking about. You can be disappointed Brittany didn't tell you, but you can't be mad at her."

Those words stick with me for the rest of the night. Mercedes and I talk a bit more after that until my papi pulls up in the driveway. Once I've assured her I'm okay, Mercedes gives me a big hug and begins her walk back to her house.

…

Throughout dinner, I try keeping up with the conversation and I'm able to for the majority of the time. But every now and then, I find myself slipping into my own head. My parents look worried, especially mami, but it's not like I can exactly explain the situation to them. At least, not yet. For now, I have to keep it to myself and suffer silently.

Mercedes was right, we all have secrets. Like Brittany told me, she would have mentioned it to me had she thought I would have supported her decision. I wouldn't have though, and I hate myself that she couldn't come to me over something so big. Mercedes barely knows me, yet she came over to my house to make sure I was okay. Brittany deserves a person like that and I let my own doubts prevent her from having one.

Brittany was never going to force me to say anything I wasn't ready for, she was never even going to ask. Everything that happened in that choir room today was about Brittany and her need to be free. I was just too God damn insensitive to realize that not everything revolves around me and my own little world.

…

Later that night, I find myself lying in bed with my phone in hand. It's after midnight but it wouldn't be the latest I've ever called her, or she called me. That's what best friends do. They call each other when something is bothering them, no matter what time of night, and the other listens regardless of how tired they may be.

My friendship with Brittany is far too important to lose over something so trivial, over my stupidity. When she mentioned that maybe we shouldn't be friends anymore, it killed me. I support her, no matter what. I just need to convince Brittany of that.

Forcing myself up off the bed, I pace back and forth a few times before finally dialing the familiar number. I press the phone to my ear and wait.

_1 ring._

My heart beats hard in my chest and I feel my palms beginning to sweat. I clench the phone tighter and swallow hard. I'm nervous.

_2 rings._

My pace accelerates, walking as quickly as possible without making enough noise to wake my parents. The muscles in my chest tighten, making it harder to breathe.

I don't deserve her right now, if she doesn't pick up it's my own fault.

_3 rings._

I'm just about to hang up when I hear the strained sound of Brittany's voice on the other end. My feet immediately stop, so quickly the phone almost slides out of my hand, and my throat goes dry.

"Hello?" Brittany repeats.

She sounds tired, she must have already been asleep. That would make sense as she rarely answers the phone without checking her caller ID. She gets a little paranoid sometimes.

Realizing I'm not exactly helping with that, I clear my throat. "Hey, Britt."

It takes a few seconds but Brittany seems to eventually wake up enough to understand what's going on. "Santana," she practically breathes into the phone. I'm not sure if I'm reading too much into this or not, but it almost sounds as if she is relieved to hear from me which is the exact opposite response that I deserve right now.

"I'm so sorry," I tell her honestly.

"It's okay," Brittany says quickly, trying to reassure me, but I shake my head back and fourth. It's not okay and it hurts me knowing she doesn't think she deserves to be treated any better.

"I'm such a fucking idiot," I almost laugh into the phone, trying my best to hold back the tears that began falling before she even picked up. I make my way to the bed and sit down on the corner of it. "I made today about me when it should have been about you, I should have been there for you, Brittany. I'm your best friend."

"You are." I can almost hear the smile on her lips as she says that. "I know this is really scary for you, that you're afraid of what will happen next. But I can handle it, San, and I promise I won't ever tell anyone about our private sweet lady kisses. It might be best if we stop doing that in front of guys, though. You know, wouldn't want anybody to get the wrong idea."

Though it's said without a hint of judgment, it still makes me feel guilty for stringing Brittany along for as long as I did. If I had known she was actually into girls like that, I would never have slept with her.

Or would I?

Am I going to be able to stop now?

Of course I am, I'm not gay. As soon as Puck gets out of juvie I'll be pounding on his door. It's only a matter of time.

Only I know it isn't.

Nothing will be the same after today.

I want to tell Brittany this, but I can't bring myself to say the words. When she told me it meant something to her when we slept together, it took me by surprise and I've yet to recover from the shock. Every time it comes to mind, I push it away, terrified about what might be revealed if I linger on it for too long. I'm not ready for that yet. All I know is that I'm not going to be able to go back to casual sex with Puck, not after everything that's happened.

"How did things go with your parents?" I ask, trying to deflect my own thoughts. "I-I should have been there with you, Britt. I wanted to be there for you."

Brittany doesn't answer right away but the sound of her breathing tells me that the call hasn't been dropped.

"It was good," she answers. "They honestly weren't all that surprised, they were just waiting for me to come to them apparently."

Her answer sounds rehearsed so I know there must be more. A part of me wants to hear what else she has to say, but the rest of me is terrified of what it could possibly be. Deciding I'll drive myself insane imagining all the possibilities, I ask her "what else?"

"They asked about you," Brittany whispers, as though she's afraid the words will scare me off. "They were wondering where you were, why you weren't there with me when I told them."

"And?"

"And," she sighs. Just like in the choir room today, I know exactly what she's going to say next. "They asked if you were my girlfriend."

Panic rises within me and Brittany must sense it because she's immediately trying to calm me down. This is all to familiar as the feeling of nausea falls over me. I can't lose control of myself this time though, not again.

"I didn't tell them anything." Brittany sounds desperate as she's saying it, as though she's begging me to believe her. "I promise you I will never tell a single person, not even my parents."

Though it's less than reassuring, deep down I know better than to doubt Brittany's promise. It doesn't make me feel any better though. "I'm glad they're cool with it," I try to play off my own discomfort.

Sensing the shift, Brittany thankfully plays along. "They were totally awesome. Lacey was a little confused, but as soon as we explained it to her she was happy for me. Though she's now set on the idea of me marrying a girl so she can have another sister."

A light laugh escapes my lips, taking me by surprise. The weight of this day is not lost on either of us but hearing about that little girl is enough to break anyone out of their funk.

"I forgot to tell you something earlier," I whisper, slipping under the comforter of my bed.

I hear shuffling on the other end of the phone and I can easily picture Brittany shifting around to find a more comfortable position. So many times have I been next to her while she did that. A part of me wishes I was there right now.

"Yeah?" Brittany asks with a yawn. She's trying her best to stay awake but she isn't doing too great a job. I need to make this quick.

"It should have been me who hugged you first," I whisper, hoping she understands what I mean by that. "It's just, when I heard you say those words out loud, I froze up. It all happened so fast, I had no idea what to do."

"You're allowed to be confused," she explains, "you can talk to me about it if you want. I'm not that great with words, but I can always try to help you. I know I should have told you beforehand and I'm sorry for that."

It sounds like Brittany's sniffling back tears but I can't tell if it's just the sound of my own reverberating through the line. "I was still mad at you, for the song and for Artie. But I should never have done that to you, it wasn't fair and you didn't deserve it."

I want to argue that I did deserve everything and more, but decide it easier to just let it slide. "I'm proud of you, Brittany," I admit, "so very, very proud. What you did was incredibly brave. I would never be able to do something like that, I'm not strong enough."

"Don't doubt yourself, San," Brittany replies and now I'm positive I'm not the only one of us crying. "You are so much stronger than you know."

"I have a hard time believing that."

"That's okay, I believe it for you."

Before I have the chance to think up a proper response, Brittany yawns once again and I look at my clock, noticing we've been on the phone for nearly an hour. "Get some rest, Britt. I'll stop by your house tomorrow to take you out for a celebratory lunch."

"Thanks, San," Brittany mumbles, obviously falling victim to sleep. "I love you."

My breath hitches in my throat at her words. "I love you, too," I whisper into the phone before ending the call.


End file.
